The Music Box
by Anonymous Echo
Summary: A short piece on the final years of Sparrow, and the one object that changed her life.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Fable II/III, nor its characters. I only own the personality and personal story for the Sparrow I played.**

**Author's Note: The Sparrow I imagined for this was incredibly angry since the death of Rose. Usually frustrated, stubborn, and oh so tactical during battle. But at the end I imagined her numb, emotionless, despite being able to reflect those emotions she once felt. Duty has been the only thing keeping her alive, not friendship, nor love. They were luxuries she was able to make, but they did not define her until the very end. Once this kid is born she's useless, and it was all because of this music box. I wanted to all to have some clue as to who the Sparrow I crafted was, because she's by far my favorite. Enjoy!**

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It was all she had, the object within her hands. The only reminder of the sacrifice she made, the one thing that made everything go wrong. They were kids, just kids out on the street. How were they supposed to know it was all just some trap in the end? In truth, that's always how it felt. The seer described it as destiny. Was it destiny when she sacrificed bringing her sister back to restore all those lost to the Spire? Was it destiny when her faithful companion was shot down trying to save her? Or the night her parents... She dared not think on it. Everything made sense, yet it did not all at the same time.

A tremor ran through her hands as she sat the music box down upon the pedestal, this was where it would be, locked away until one day... One day... Her hand rested upon her stomach, brows furrowing in displeasure. Theresa was right yet again, or so she could only assume from the last she saw of her within the Spire. The last time they would ever see one another. Queen of Albion she was now, her first born, Logan, with her husband. No signs of heroic tendencies, she noticed just how much of her persona he had taken in. The first time she saw it she knew he would not be the one. Standing here and now, with her second child waiting to be born, she knew this was the one. Logan may be wearing the crown, but this one was the hero who would take it. There was a change to come, Theresa said, and she knew who would bring it.

Her blue hues focused upon the music box, this would be the final time she'd come to lay eyes upon it. She dared to reach out and wind it up, hesitating only briefly before she let it go. Her ears picked up instantly on the familiar sound of gears turning, and then came the music.

_Rose..._

The only thing she could ever see when the music played. Her screams, and how badly she just wanted to stay with her within paradise. Her sister always loved music; she could remember the girl dancing with the other children from time to time. Her love in life made Sparrow's love all the stronger, and so now when listening to this little tune she couldn't help but wonder... Would Rose still love this tune, after everything? Because right now Sparrow sure as hell despised it. In reality, she could never hate it, for it still had a piece of her sister embedded within it. Knowing that hurt, to the point where her heart burned. Everything about this tune described the story of her life, and it would up until the day she died.

Turning away slowly she began walking away from the pedestal, her lips pulling into a sad smile, a final farewell. There were many things that needed to be done; her life was only useful until her second child was born. She would have to make sure everything was set and prepared for whatever the future would bring. Her children would not suffer as she had, they would not wear these scars. They would be stronger, stronger than she could ever be. Sparrow lifted her hands and grasped the large wooden doors she left open just a crack, her eyes gazing back upon the shining box. The tune hauntingly still playing, as if trying to draw out this farewell.

"Find peace, do not ever force forgiveness upon me." She whispered to all those who had fallen before her, to those she had lost, to those she could not defend. Every person she came just a moment too late for, "Please... Find peace at last." The doors closed shut, locking themselves as she walked away. The tune of the music box falling silent as its gears winded down, becoming mute for many years to come.


End file.
